Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Namibia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Alice Coltrane to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Jacques Brel,
The Monochrome Set,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kerri Chandler,
Talk Talk,
Jeru the Damaja,
B.T. Express,
Crash Course in Science,
Neu!,
Das Ding,
the Bar-Kays,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pantaleimon,
Scan 7,
the Normal,
Black Bananas,
The Black Dice,
The Misunderstood,
Suicide,
Frankie Knuckles,
Cybotron,
Marshall Jefferson,
Guru Guru,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Pylon,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Main Source,
Slave,
Max Romeo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Con Funk Shun,
Harmonia,
Sex Pistols,
Reagan Youth,
Jacob Miller,
Lower 48,
Parry Music,
Amon Düül,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
James White and The Blacks,
Leonard Cohen,
John Holt,
DJ Style,
Albert Ayler,
Ludus,
The Happenings,
Bootsy Collins,
Aswad,
Tears for Fears,
Derrick May,
Roxette,
Aaron Thompson,
Bob Dylan,
Negative Approach,
Brothers Johnson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Wolf Eyes,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan, Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.